Foreshadowing
by Simply Lily
Summary: There was supposed to be a scene in Fear Her in which the Doctor and Rose spend the night in 2012. Together. In the same room. Yeah, I know. This is my silly fluffy version, originally for an LJ challange. TenRose friendship. Spoilers for S'2.


**Title:** Foreshadowing.

**Author:** simplylily

**Rating:** G (just friendship, sorry).

**Characters\Pairings**: Ten\Rose, Trish.

**Spoilers:** Just to be safe, all of Season 2.

**Summary:** Response fic to the _Fear Her_ missing scene challenge.

A short little fluff about my favorite concept in the world - Rose and the Doctor lying around in bed and being silly and cute.

**Disclaimer: **I love saying that this show isn't mine as if there was ever a chance of it being.

-

The Doctor kicked the carpet with an adorably childish vigor.

Rose giggled, taking off her jacket, _finally _getting to settle in after such a long day. "Too domestic for you, Doctor? An _actual_ house, with carpets and all? I know you hate carpets."

The Doctor couldn't shake the distinct feeling that Rose's sympathy was maybe just a tiny bit false. Being a genius and all, he learned to trust feelings such as this. His pout deepened, now addressed to her as well, "I don't have anything against carpets, thank you. Just as long as it's not _me_ buying them with money I've earned from working in an _office_."

The last word was said with such disgust, that it practically sent Rose into a hysterical fit of giggling.

"You're not being very nice, Rose Tyler," he moped. "I think the evil drawings made you… well, _evil._"

The giggling was replaced with an affectionate smile. "Sorry, Doctor, you just make it so easy sometimes." When he didn't relent, she linked a supportive arm around his, "Cheer up. This can't be worse than circling a black hole and having coffee with Satan."

Finally, the corners of the Doctor's lips twisted ever-so-slightly upwards. "Guess not," he murmured, slightly bumping into her.

Well, _slightly_ in a way that somehow led to her falling on the bed and taking him with her.

Either she was really tired or he was developing superpowers. Whichever it might have been, her laughter was infectious and very welcomed in the Doctor's book. He even tickled her a little, just for good measure, and enjoyed her squirming helplessly.

"Doctor, stop it!" she squealed. "Come on, that's not fair!"

"Say sorry for making fun of me," he demanded, barely keeping up a stern front.

Rose doubled over, barely breathing, but still somehow found the strength to be smart, "I think it's supposed to be _uncle_."

"Oh, is it?" the Doctor asked innocently. He switched their positions when it seemed she might escape by rolling off the bed, so that a lot more of his weight was used to holding her down. "Well, I'm a Time Lord, I think I can make my own rules. Go on, then, say it. Say sorry."

He was practically straddling her. Really, he should stop.

This was no behavior for a 900 years old superhero-type alien, it wasn't.

Well, maybe he'd hold on until she caved.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry!" Rose choked, trying to wriggle her way out of his grip. "Alright, I said it. Sorry!"

He stopped his torturing, but otherwise didn't move. Honestly, Rose was just too comfortable and warm for him to be tempted to move. Not like she'd have the energy to push him away anyway. He settled his head on her stomach and breathed in the girly scent that was all her. "Apology accepted, I guess," he said, sneaking a look at her face, which was flushed and glistening and especially cute.

He felt too content for it to _not _be a sign of impending doom.

Rose ran her fingers through his forever-ruffled hair, ruffling it even further. "You're cute when you're sleepy," she said, a smile evident in her voice.

"I'm not sleepy," he protested weakly. "Time Lords don't get _sleepy_."

Rose chuckled, "That's a fat lie if I ever heard one. Every so often I catch you asleep on the console. Honestly, Doctor, don't you have a room with a proper bed somewhere in TARDIS?"

He did, in fact, and just as he started to mutter a tired affirmation, Trish knocked softly and opened the door without waiting to be invited. The Doctor jumped up to a sitting position, feeling chastened for no real reason, really. "Yes, hello!" he called, overly cheerful.

Trish shifted uncomfortably, holding onto a big pile of sheets as if her life depended on it. "Oh, uh, sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to just… barge in like that."

The way she was acting, you'd think she caught them playing _Mistress of Pain_. The Doctor shook his head frantically, as if denying the accusations, "Quite alright, it is your house. We're just humble guests, let me take that, by the way." He took the sheets from her hands, which was a nice opportunity to look away and move around the room.

"I do have another room, if you like," Trish suggested.

"Uh, no. No thanks," the Doctor blurted. "No need for the trouble, really. We travel about a lot, me and Rose. Slept in much smaller places, sometimes there were no beds at all. And anyway, I try not to leave her alone for too long, gets in trouble within seconds, this one does. Very jeopardy friendly."

Both his mind and Rose's glare were sending him a clear message, which content was along the lines of _shut up, _though he was sure Rose's contained a few more words that he was not very keen on hearing.

Trish nodded curtly, barely containing her amusement. "As you like, I've brought you some things."

"Thank you," Rose said, smiling pleasantly. She was apparently more used to the notorious ideas people had for her and the Doctor. It was understandable, really. Her father and the talking _tree_ were hard to top.

"No, thank you," Trish said softly. "Thank you both for helping."

The Doctor grinned, sincere in every fiber of his being. "We'll sort this all out in the morning, I promise. Chloe will be just fine."

With one last nod, Trish left the room.

Rose smiled after her as she started to set the bed. "So, why aren't we staying in the TARDIS anyway?" she asked, her tone conversational. "Felt like a vacation?"

The Doctor pulled a round little device from his pocket and proudly wiggled it in front of her. "Sort of an energy-o-meter," he explained matter of factly, as if talking about a toothbrush as opposed to a complicated alien device. "If Chloe starts to draw something, the energy will start gathering all over and this little toy will alert us with a jaunty tune."

"And we'd be close enough to stop it?" Rose finished carefully when it was obvious he was done talking.

"Now there's a Tyler brain in action!" the Doctor exclaimed, grinning maniacally at his giggling Companion. "You've been deducting all over today, Lewis. 'am very proud of you."

"Why, thank you, Sarg," Rose said, trying to keep the giggling to a minimum and the blushing to a zero. "Think I'll make a good copper one day?"

The Doctor's beam lost its nonsensical air. "Not just good- _brilliant_!" he promised, gleaming with pride.

Rose froze momentarily, but quickly concealed it with a chuckle and a well timed shift to the other side of the bed, away from the Doctor's cheerful and oddly adoring gaze. She busied herself with the sheets, arranging them well above the necessary, given that in a minute they'd be a mass of disarray.

"Are we gonna stay for the Olympics after you- uh, _we_- save the world?" she asked, clearing her throat from any residual coyness.

The Doctor hopped on the bed she _just_ made, effectively ruining the careful organization. Rose couldn't find a single cell that was upset with this, especially when The Pout returned, full force. "Why do you make it sound like we never do, Rose?"

Rose shrugged, taking a seat next to him, "I dunno, sometimes we don't stick around."

"We will if you want to," he almost whispered, and now they were both lying on the bed, bodies facing each other. "This isn't just _my_ show, you know."

Rose's eyes were two glittering stars of excitement. "Well, then after the Olympics, can we go back to New New York and _actually_ go sightseeing? We never did go back after dropping Cassandra off."

The Doctor scratched his ear pensively, "Huh. Guess we never did." He propped his head on his elbow, falling into one of his babbling series, "Well, why didn't you say anything? _Course _we can go back! Your wish is my command, remember? TARDIS's first lady and all that? Soon as we're done with the Olympics, I'll set up a course. Honestly, Rose, if you-"

She interrupted him with a joyful embrace, "Thanks, Doctor!"

He chuckled, rubbing circles across her back, unknowingly lulling her slowly into sleep.

"Oh, but can we stop by at the mum's first? I wanna give her that Bezulium thing already. Been carrying it around for ages." The last few words were barely intelligible and barely over a murmur. It was only then that the Doctor realized she was practically limp in his arms.

While the prospect of seeing Jackie was still an adventure too extreme even for him, there was no reason to stir an argument that would jar his- clearly tired- Companion away from sleep and end with him losing anyway. Instead, he just slid so that they were both lying down, with Rose's head resting on his stomach, much as his head was just minutes ago, and the Doctor playing with her hair, much as she did to him just minutes ago.

"Sure we can, Rose. 'f you want. Powel Estate and then New New York, and ooh, Barcelona! Never did get a chance to go there too." Of course, by now Rose was not listening to much of anything, and the last thought to go through the Doctor's head was that it was lucky they took their shoes and coats off but a shame they didn't remember the blanket.

Well, he'll just have to warm her up somehow, he thought as he reached for his discarded coat.

And oh, there was this little shop in New Manhattan that she just _had _to see. It had _Rose Tyler _written all over it, with the futuristic pink shirts everything.

And oh, he did wish Jackie wouldn't keep them long. Maybe he should fake a TARDIS malfunction and _accidentally _skip right over Earth, 2006? That might work.

"Don't even think about it," Rose murmured sleepily, to which the Doctor responded by rubbing his ear in confusion with his free hand for at least ten minutes. It was possible that she said that in a different context, but probably not, if he knew her at all.

"Oh, alright," he sighed, finally letting his eyelids fall.

Just before he fell asleep, he heard her ask, "Am I really the TARDIS's first lady?"


End file.
